It was Feb. 18, 1996, and all that was left of the heart of Madison’s queer community was its brick ribcage, black with soot against a rainbow pride flag, flapping
Bygone Madison menus
Linda Falkenstein
March has prompted for many of us some poignant recollections of last year at this time, and more than a little bit of soul-searching. It also meant that I finally got around to unpacking most of the material from my
Isthmus desk that I took home in the middle of last March.
At that time, I threw the most immediate materials â notes for stories in progress â in a tote bag and dumped most of the other files in bankers boxes. Piles of old copies of the paper that I kept for various reference purposes â like âWhat was in